


Dancing and Goodbyes

by swallowsinthewind



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, And feely, Dancing, F/M, I wrote this for no reason, Mystery, Romance, bughead even if you dont know it, i love these two kiddos, i was tired ok, ignore me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23326219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swallowsinthewind/pseuds/swallowsinthewind
Summary: Who knows what binds souls together, who knows why some people are the same? Certainly not them. All they knew was that in this moment in time, they were one.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Kudos: 5





	Dancing and Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> Look it was one am and i couldn't sleep. What do you expect me to do except write very short, dreamy, nonsensical and semi-incoherent bughead romance?
> 
> Also fyi i didnt edit this so excuse any mistakes

She saw him from across the dance floor.

Saw him, dressed in his black suit adorned with blue ribbon for lapels. Eyes as mysterious as his name, midnight locks tucked under a woollen memory.

Immediately, something inside her twisted, wrenching her heart from her chest, pulling and pushing at it with a clenching ache. It led her, as if a mother yanking her child away from the dangers of a busy road to safety, and danced her feet through the moving couples dancing, tugging her into the unknown.

That was when their eyes met. Their eyes met, and their hearts linked with a single, igniting breath. 

All at once she was in his arms, connected with him as if there was no join, no end, to either of them, as if they were one, and this was home. 

All Betty could do was stare; stare into the depths of his endless spirals of blue eyes, searching for something, anything to say that she was dreaming, that he knew what was happening. She found nothing there, however, and instead all she found was a reflection of herself, a mirror image of her mind imprinted onto another’s soul.

They seemed to move together, to breathe and think together, though it seemed as though neither of them was the dominant thinker, making their bodies move. It was something else, she thought, a mixture of them both, of something deep inside the murky depths of each of them, waiting to be released, unconsciously subdued until the key was found.

Betty could not consciously control a muscle in her body, and even as her mind lagged, she found both of them suddenly in the middle of the dance floor, with her pale blue satin dress joint to his matching cummerbund. They were the same person, to the very end of their hearts, and she could feel a home, a trust inside the person who’s name she didn’t know, though she knew them like they knew herself.

“Who are we?” her breathy whisper seemed to echo in the room, even as it felt as if they were isolated in their own bubble, the other couples not paying them any extra measure.

“we?” his voice asked back, equally as breathy as hers, though deeper, softer, and denser. “We.” He concluded, lifting his voice up, making it level with the angels in heaven.

Subconsciously, she knew they had started to move. She felt the cool satin swaying around her legs as they swept around the room. She saw the blurring, the fraying at the corners of her vision, with her hair flying around her face in an organised tangle. But she was so transposed, so fixed on soaking in, stealing every glance into his face, his open eyes.

They whisked around the tiled floor, floating as they melted together in a vision of satin and suit, olive skin and pale. They were neither one nor the other, and the eclipse of separation blurred their image as if they were nothing at all but a wisp, alight in the moonlight as they weaved in and out of an invisible maze of steps.

There was no evident choreography, rather a definite sense of knowing, of trusting the other in arms, of feeling something and dancing a string of emotions. A love, so palpable it made they air in the room hard to breath. A fear, so cold it froze blood. A sense of discovery, so satisfactory it soothed minds. Most of all, there was a strange quality of sadness, and fleeting time savoured but spent. A tale of lovers meeting through new lives, though only for minutes, and then loosing their way, fumbling their footing.

If you were an onlooker, and you were watching, carefully, searching the two – or one’s – eyes, you might find a warmth to heat the coldest of hearts there. An understanding that bypassed any knowledge studied by anyone. It was a knowing, a savouring of time, that made them practically float around the room, complete as a whole, as one being.

And then, it was all gone, rung out like a cloth, all the emotion, the love, squeezed out of the room. 

They were gone, too. The girl and the boy – for that’s all they really were. Separate entities that bound together, wrapped around each other’s souls and merged effortlessly, as they were one and the same.

There was an unspoken goodbye in the air, a sadness of two that are connected but forced to split, only allowed to meet and dance in the form of other beings that have progressed through the centuries.

Oblivious hearts broke that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my early morning ramblings. Send kudos or comments, if you like.


End file.
